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Looking wildly around the space, she saw a small camera set high in one corner above a large metal supply cabinet. The camera lens was trained on the cage. Was someone watching her? Could they hear her?

Staring up at the lens, she cried out, “Help me! Someone, please come help me. Let me out of here!”

She waited, heart pounding, for someone to appear, but all remained silent.

Where in god’s name was she? How had she gotten there? What had happened to her? Why couldn’t she remember?

Panic rising like bile in her throat, she looked again toward the stairs. Gripping the bars of the cage with shaking hands, she cried out again, her voice breaking, “Help! Someone, help me! I’m trapped down here!”

She strained, listening for a response, a sound, anything, but all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart in her ears. She sat for some time, hands clenched around the metal bars, too frozen with terror to move.

Think, she ordered herself, trying not to let the tide of panic sweep her away. What’s the last thing you remember?

She had been doing her grocery shopping after work.

“Think,” she muttered aloud. “Take a deep breath and clear your head.”

She followed her own instructions, relieved when some of the fog lifted from her brain. Then, in a sudden rush, she remembered.

There was that woman in the parking lot with the red hair under a big floppy hat. She’d needed help. Jane had given her a ride, supposedly to her car. But then… Someone had grabbed her, pulling her out of the car. It had happened so fast, she’d had no time react.

She had tried desperately to fight him off but he was twice her size and ten times stronger. He’d thrown her in the back seat. She’d struggled and thrashed. Then there was that sharp prick in her thigh… And then…nothing. Her mind was blank after that.

A needle. It must have been a syringe. They must have drugged her. It had all happened so quickly. The whole thing must have been planned out.

But why? What did they want with her?

And why her? She wasn’t from a wealthy family, and she had no money for a ransom. None of it made any sense.

Her eyes were drawn again to the whips and chains hung around the walls. It was like she was in some kind of torture chamber…

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she chanted, unable to stop herself as she rocked back and forth. Fear sloshed over her, each wave colder than the last. Her lungs seemed to have collapsed and she couldn’t draw in a proper breath. Burning tears filled her eyes as she tried to breathe.

“Help me,” she pleaded, her voice breaking.

Still, no one came.

Jane began to cry in great, gulping sobs.

Chapter 2

Robert and Brenda ate their sandwiches, eyes glued to the large screen that provided the audio and video feed from the torture chamber. The girl had come out of the drug-induced stupor, and she was, predictably, freaking out.

Robert felt almost sorry for the girl. She was so distressed, poor thing. But she would adapt in time. They always did.

Brenda took a long pull on her beer. “Looks like our little froggy is awake.”

Robert nodded, his eyes glued to the screen. Her cries had subsided to snuffled sobs, her head hidden in her arms. He had to hand it to Brenda. She was great at getting their new sex toys into what she called “the proper headspace for submission.” Brenda was cerebral like that. He preferred to focus on the physical.

They finished eating, put the dishes in the sink, and finally headed back down to properly greet their new toy. Robert could barely contain his excitement.

When they entered the room, the girl looked up with a tear-streaked face, both fear and hope in her expression. “Please,” she said breathlessly. “Let me out of here. Please. This is all some horrible mistake.”

“No mistake,” Brenda snapped. “You’re right where we want you.”

“Relax,” Robert added, smiling to put the girl at ease. “I’m Robert, and this is my lovely wife, Brenda. Welcome to your new home, Jane.”

“Oh, my god,” she breathed. “How do you know my name? What am I doing here?”

“We have your purse and your car, stupid,” Brenda replied.

Jane gripped the bars, her eyes pleading. “Please, this is crazy. You have to let me go. Please, just let me go.”

“Why would we do that, when we went to so much trouble to get you?” Robert answered with a grin. “You’re our special guest.”

“Here’s the thing,” Brenda cut in. “You belong to us now. You will do everything we tell you to do. You fuck up, and you’ll be punished in ways you can’t even imagine.”

The girl’s mouth hung open, her eyes bugging as Brenda crouched in front of the cage and leaned close to the bars. In a low, mean voice, Brenda hissed, “Nobody knows you’re here, baby cakes. From this moment forward, you exist solely to please us. To entertain us. We like to play rough, as you might have surmised.” Brenda waved toward the suspension rig and the toys on the wall.


Tags: Claire Thompson Romance